


Coffee and Wings

by Angelic Shock (JustJanus)



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Angels, Cute, Fluffy, angel - Freeform, angel au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-10 10:17:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14735072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJanus/pseuds/Angelic%20Shock
Summary: You're a barista at the local cafe. One quiet morning there's a customer you've never seen before. He's beautiful and otherworldly and you're left wanting to see him more and more.Alternatively: Patrick Gill is an angel both figuratively and literally and you can't get enough of him.





	1. Golden

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by the Angel Pat AU anon over at polygonfessionals on tumblr! Bless them for sharing this au idea

You first see him on Monday. You’re at the register when he walks in, he’s the earliest a customer has ever been in your few years of working at the cafe and you’re annoyed when you hear the ringing of the bell as he swings the door open. Your annoyance fades when you look up though, and you see him through tired eyes that feel like they’re made of lead. His small, apologetic smile as he runs a hand through his hair to push it out of his face and his quiet, whispered “Sorry” that sounds deafening in the silent cafe are enough to wake you up from your exhausted state. You put on your best customer service smile and respond with a quick “Good morning.” before asking for his order. He tells you it and you just manage to listen enough to tap it into the screen, your mind numb with fatigue and your heart beating fast in your ears as the sunlight filters through the windows and highlights his face. His voice is soft, low, and so calming. He smiles again, even wider this time, as you repeat his order back at him and you can feel your knees wobble.  

He takes a seat at a table in front of the cake display and takes his phone out, you’re frozen for a few moments as you watch him, your mind unable to process anything aside from how cute he looks as he yawns. As you begin to make the coffee, your eyes can’t help but wander back to him every so often. The soft golden light seems to be gathering around him, drawn to him, but you assume it’s just the sunlight streaming in from outside. You find yourself hesitating to make his order, wanting to keep him in the cafe for just a little bit longer, but you tell yourself you must. When you’re finally done, you call out softly that it’s ready and he jumps slightly. When he walks over to collect it, his fingers brush against yours as he takes his cup and his other hand adjusts his glasses. He smiles at you again and thanks you, his voice barely audible above the sound of the birds coming in through the open windows. It isn’t until he’s out the door and gone down the street that you realise you were supposed to get his name with his order and you’re left hoping he returns soon, if only so you can get a look at those beautiful eyes and soft-looking dark hair and hear his voice one more time.

The second time you see him is the next day, Tuesday, at the same time in the morning before your coworkers arrive. This time you’re definitely sure the light is following him, attracted to him and illuminating him in gold, because he seems to light up even the darkest corners of the cafe with just his presence. You once again brush it off as just light from outside but there’s something otherworldly about it, about _him_ , that you can’t quite put your finger on. You internally scold yourself for being so lovestruck, so cheesy about your attraction to him, and take his order with a smile. He compliments your hair and you can feel your cheeks heat up as you stutter a polite “Thank you, I like your hair too.” but once again you forget to get his name. This time you remember before he leaves, just as you’re beginning to make his coffee, but by then he’s already seated himself at a table. He’s wearing the same outfit as yesterday; a red and black plaid shirt with tight black jeans and black boots. It’s a good look on him and goes well with his thick black rimmed glasses and scruffy beard. This time when he comes to take his coffee order from your hands, his eyes seem to catch the light in a way that makes them look golden. You’re frozen, staring, not realising that your grip is still tight on his cup. He stares back at you, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow as you gaze into those beautiful eyes that look like they’re _glowing_. It takes you a few more seconds before you cough awkwardly and let go of the cup, murmuring a quick “Have a nice day.” as he lets out a small laugh and repeats the sentiment back at you before he walks out. You watch as he leaves and you swear you see him turn back towards you and lift his hand in a small wave but then he’s gone down the street.

The next morning, you find yourself laying in bed too sick to get up. You’ve called your manager and one of your coworkers has taken over your shift for you. You trust her to open up the store but as you’re about to doze off to sleep again you jolt awake suddenly and sit up. She’s going to be the one to serve _him_ if he appears at the same time again. You sigh loudly to your empty room in your empty apartment but lay down again, resigning yourself to being stuck to your bed for the day. There’s a quiet voice in your mind that tells you it doesn’t matter because there’s no way a man that beautiful would be interested in you anyway, and you’d just be making a horrible impression by letting him see you so sick. The more hopeful side of you retorts that if you recover fast enough you’ll be able to see him again and maybe you’ll _finally_ get his name. You fold the blankets up and tuck them under your chin, staring up at the ceiling with heavy lidded eyes. You find your mind wandering back towards him again, you know nothing about him except for his coffee order and that he’s beautiful but you feel drawn to him regardless. He radiates an aura of comfort and warmth, it’s welcoming and relaxing and you can’t tell if it’s just because of how tired you are on the mornings you see him or because there’s something specifically special about him. Then you remember his eyes, a deep dark brown, but when they reflected the light the previous day they had looked like melted gold, burning their way straight through your heart and into your soul. You fall asleep seeing those eyes in your mind.


	2. Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thursday through to Saturday is a wild ride, but so very worth it.

Thursday begins quiet; too quiet and you’re not sure what’s so unsettling about it until the clock ticks over and you realise. 

He’s not here. 

He doesn’t show up at his usual time, or the hour after that, or the hour after  _ that _ . You go through the motions of making coffee for all the other usual customers. They greet you with a smile and tell you they hope you’re feeling better. You thank them all in the most cheerful voice you can muster, feeling your body moving on autopilot as it makes coffees and hot chocolates on loop. 

The sky is grey today and the cafe is filled with people rushing in and out, desperate for hot drinks to compensate for the cold day. You’ve grown so used to the golden light of the sun shining through the glass that now that it’s gone, everything feels smaller and more imposing, like the cafe itself is trying to trap you inside. You make a coffee for yourself as your shift ends, a small token to take home with you after you close up for the day. You wave goodbye to your coworkers as they filter out, tired smiles mirrored on all their faces while you finish the drink you’re making. It’s only when you’ve put the lid on and taken a sip do you realise what you’ve done without even thinking. 

You’ve made his order. 

You put the cup down and slowly take your apron off, hanging it up with the others’ in the staffroom. The cafe is silent again, it’s not yet closing time but the sky has darkened with storm clouds and no one is lingering out on the streets. You don’t expect anyone to be coming in anytime soon. As you pick up the cup again and take another sip, a rumble of thunder roars outside. The warmth of the coffee fills you up and you prepare to brave the cold. 

Then the bell rings and the door opens. 

You’re beginning to apologise before you’ve fully turned around but you cut yourself off when you see him standing there. One of his arms is folded in front of him, holding his jacket tightly closed. It takes you a brief moment to shake yourself out of your surprise but you take long strides over to the cash register and smile at him. 

“The same?” you ask, and he nods as you punch in the order. 

“You weren’t here yesterday.” he says, dark eyes staring intently at you with concern. You tell him you were sick and his eyes soften as he leans forward over the counter a little. 

He asks if you’re okay now, if you’re okay to be working, and you can hear genuine worry in his voice. You nod and thank him for the concern, your heart melting as he smiles slow and wide. 

His voice drops as he takes a few steps back and turns to the side, whispering “I, uh, missed you.” 

You’re not sure if he meant for you to hear that but you’re too stunned to respond anyway. Something else catches your attention before you can come up with any words. There’s a glint of gold in his hair, he sees you looking and quickly adjusts his hair with a hand before you can comment. You only saw it for a moment but you could’ve sworn it was a feather. The logical explanation would be that it’s a bird feather but there are no birds of that colour around, especially not on a day like this. You busy yourself with making his coffee, peeking over the machine at him every so often. There’s no one else around in the cafe and you’re dying to speak to him and get to know him but the words keep getting stuck in your throat. You glance outside, the sky is still grey, but when you glance back at him you blink a few times. 

He’s glowing.  _ Literally _ glowing where he stands. There’s a golden aura around him and it’s in stark contrast to the gloominess of everything else. There’s another rumble of thunder and out of the corner of your eye you see him turn sharply towards the door. As his hair moves, you see more peeks of white-gold, definitely feathers, and he shifts his clothing uncomfortably. You quickly place the lid on top of his coffee and call out to him. He turns back to you and smiles, thanking you quickly before he’s rushing out the door. 

As you turn back to your own cup of coffee you groan to yourself. You  _ still _ haven’t gotten his name. 

Friday is hectic. You’re not entirely sure why there are suddenly so many customers at every hour of the day, all you know is that your arms will be sore before the end of work. You would’ve been disappointed that he didn’t show up at the beginning of the day if it weren’t for the stress clouding your mind at the sheer number of drinks you’ve had to make. 

You’re so busy you don’t even notice when he walks in around midday, even then you hear him before you see him. You’re standing by the coffee machine finishing drinks and starting new ones when you hear him say his order to your coworker. You glance over quickly and you feel your heart lurch when you see the woman he’s standing with. You shrug it off though, even if the two of them are dating it’s not like friendship with him is entirely unattainable. They order their coffees together and you see the orders pop up on the staff screen and realise that your coworker must have gotten a name. You scan the screen intently but you only see what is presumably his friend’s name - Simone. 

When you call her name, after you’ve finished both their orders, the two of them walk over and collect their drinks. Upon seeing you, he grins and waves, you wave back and wish them a good day. 

“Thank you! You too! See you tomorrow!” He says as he leaves, one hand tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. You see it again, that flash of a golden feather, visible for only a brief second but obvious against the backdrop of his dark hair. His hand goes to adjust the collar of his shirt and just by his collarbones you see what appears to be little feathers, you think you’re going crazy but then he’s gone and there’s more orders you have to finish. 

It’s only when you’re on your way home do you realise what he said to you.  _ Tomorrow _ . You smile to yourself and there’s a skip in your step. Tomorrow, you decide, tomorrow you’ll finally get his name. You spend your Friday night in bed but staying up, to excited and nervous to actually sleep. 

Then Saturday arrives, and with it comes rain. There’s less customers today but you don’t mind, preferring to listen to the rain against the windows while your coworkers busy themselves. It’s a change of pace from yesterday and you welcome it wholeheartedly. 

By the end of work you’re ready to collapse, your emotional and physical energy spent. As the closing time draws closer, your coworkers start slowly filtering out, some pairing up under large umbrellas together as they venture into the rain. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed that he hadn’t come in. You distract yourself by cleaning up the tables and starting to tidy up for the day. A cold breeze comes through one of the smaller windows, making you shiver and you clutch the damp towel in your hand tighter. One of your coworkers gathers up discarded take away cups left on booth tables as you make your way around the cafe. The booths are more frustrating to clean; there is miscellaneous rubbish being left in between the seat cushions as well as opened sugar packets shoved carelessly on the floor. 

By the time you’re done, your other coworkers have gone home, you having reassured them that you would be fine on your own. You’re just finishing up with mopping the floor when the doorbell rings. You shoulders slump and you feel like curling up into a ball on the ground in exhaustion as five people trail their way into the cafe. You recognise the woman at the front, Simone, from the previous day. She glances around then back at you and apologises for the group, you catch a glimpse of black and red plaid by the door and your heart fills with hope. You tell Simone it’s no problem and walk back around to the cash register to take all the orders, letting each of them know they’ll have to wait a while as you make each individual drink. 

As they line up, you see the black and red plaid again and the smile on your face grows wider and more genuine as you realise it’s him. The woman in front of him sees you looking his way and nudges him in the stomach with an elbow until he looks up and at you. You blush and he grins, lifting a hand in a small wave, almost sheepish. 

You take everyone’s orders, making sure this time to get their names as well - Simone, Jenna, Brian, and Tara. The drinks are all fairly simple to make so it’s not too terrible, still, you wish you weren’t the only one still left at the cafe right now. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your cheeks hot, as you take his order and finally,  _ finally _ ask: “Can I grab your name for your order?” 

He smiles at you, slowly, slyly, you’re fairly certain he’s been waiting for you to ask but you don’t want to get your hopes up too high. 

“Patrick.” He says, his voice low, then he adds quickly, “But you can just call me Pat, it’s fine.” 

You’re so flustered all you can force out yourself is a “Thanks” and you mentally slap yourself for the awkwardness. He doesn’t seem to mind though and just thanks you in response before walking over to join the rest of his friends while you get to work with the drinks. Out of the corner of your eye you see them laugh at him once he’s joined them. 

As you finish their drinks and hand them to their respective patron, one by one they wave goodbye and leave the cafe. Simone apologises again when you give her her drink and they all thank you and leave until it’s just Patrick. 

When you do call out his name, it comes out as more of a mumble than anything else and you have to clear your throat and say it again. You feel butterflies in your stomach as he walks over and pauses before he reaches for the cup. 

“So, um, forgive me if I’ve been reading anything wrong but…” He hesitates and you hold your breath, “Would you want to go on a date with me tomorrow?” 

You’re frozen in shock, staring blankly at him and trying to process his words. You’re trying to form a coherent sentence to answer his question but in the time it takes you to do so he’s taken his drink and apologised to you, already heading for the door clearly thinking you’re saying no. 

“Yes! Please!” You blurt out, coherent sentences be damned. “I-I’d love to.” 

He pivots on the spot and walks back to you eagerly. 

“I finish work at 2pm tomorrow, so I’ll be free after then.” You say and he grins. 

“Cool! I’ll.. come pick you up then?” He responds and you nod enthusiastically, “Yeah! I’ll see you then, uh, shit, I never got your name I’m so sorry.” 

You giggle and tell him and you watch as he blushes while saying “That’s a really pretty name.” You’re both standing in silence for a few seconds before he coughs and starts heading for the door, waving goodbye. You wave back and wish him a good evening, turning around to begin cleaning the coffee machine as you finally end your day. 

You’ve worked way overtime today but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t all completely worth it. 


End file.
